July 2007 Archives

'There is evidence that the Minoan Cretans and the Egyptians employed bars of gold of regular weight for [trading] in the area afterwards covered by Greek trade. But neither they nor any other of the peoples of the Near East developed the idea of stamping their metal to make coins; that was an invention of the Greeks. . . .

Ionian merchants [in Asia Minor] found a commodity which answered their purposes . . . in a more precious metal than bronze'electrum, a natural alloy of gold and silver obtained from the beds of some rivers near at hand'and made this the basis of their standard of values. . . .

[A] novel feature soon appeared on the lumps of electrum which were passed for purposes of trade, in the form of distinctive stamps impressed upon them; at first these were little more than punch-marks on the surface, but gradually became a design, into which one side of the lump of metal was moulded.'

'J.G. Milne, Greek Coinage, Oxford University Press, 1931.

'What he saw, not only of reality but even in his imagination, was often blurred by fever, but within that vague dimness his cancer appeared to him as a flourishing bed of yellow hyacinths or possibly chrysanthemums bathed in a faint, purple light.'

'Kenzaburo O', The Day He Himself Shall Wipe My Tears Away, translated by John Nathan, 1977.

'I felt the eye of the forest staring at me from among cedars, pines, and several species of cypress, all of a green so murky that one perceived it almost as black.'

'Kenzaburo O', The Silent Cry, translated by John Bester, 1974.

'It's a known truth: grey-eyed people is jealous.'

'Berenice, the cook, in the film version of The Member Of The Wedding, 1952. She says it twice, so it must be true.

I'm back. I'm safely back. I've been visiting family and friends in piedmont and good ol' down east North Carolina, and I had a wonderful time. I'll post more pics soon, but for tonight here's a shot of Vollis Simpson's Whirligig Farm, located on Simpson's Shop road, not far from Wilson.

'If you paint the inside of your chicken coop orange, your chickens will lay more eggs.'

'Tom Parker, Rules of Thumb, 1983.

'The material out of which the familiar grocery bag is made is known as Kraft paper, after the German word denoting power, force, and strength. The name thus connotes the familiar toughness of the bag. Kraft paper is made from a pulping process employing a long-fibered softwood like southern pine. When the paper is unbleached, the familiar brown paper bag results. Bleached Kraft paper is usually used in making bakery bags, the white paper suggesting a cleaner container. . . .'

'Henry Petroski, Small Things Considered, 2003.

''Duck tape' is also reported variously to have been called 'military tape,' 'gun tape,' and 'ammo tape' during World War II, when it was invented, developed, and first used. . . .

The versatility of the tape made it a natural thing for GIs to bring back to the States. . . . The original army green (olive drab) color of the tape . . . changed to its now-familiar sheet-metal gray, whose metallic cast better matched the galvanized ductwork on which it was used. Thus it began to be called and sold as 'duct tape,' a name that divorced the product from its military origins.'

'Henry Petroski, Small Things Considered, 2003.

It's the end of an area. Don Murray's Barbecue & Seafood, on Wake Forest Road in Raleigh, North Carolina, is out of business and the property is for sale. I never ate there, but I have always loved the sign, a replica of the original building on top of brick pier. Some years back it won an exemption from a city-wide sign ordinance, and a well deserved exemption it was. This sign has chutzpah, this sign has huevos. But I don't think this erection will be up much longer.

'The full moon horrified me with her cloudy leer. 'Regard, la face de skalette dans la lune!' cries my mother''Look, the face of a skeleton in the moon!''

'Jack Kerouac, Dr. Sax, 1959.

'. . . the inconceivable joy that creams up in my soul at the thought of the little kid in the funnies under his blanket quilt at midnight New Year's when thru the blue sweetness of his window in comes the bells and horn cries and honks and stars and slams of Time and Noises, and the blue fences of the quilt night are dewy in the moon . . .'

'Jack Kerouac, Dr. Sax, 1959.

'Poor Doctor Sax stood drooped and sad at his forge works. The fire was blue, the blue cave roof was blue, everything, shadow was blue, my shoes were blue' . . .

I uprolled my sleeves to help Doctor Sax with the jars of eternity. They were labeled one after another with bright blue and obviously other colors and had Hebraic writing on them'his secrets were Jewish, mixed with some Arabic.'

'Jack Kerouac, Dr. Sax, 1959.

HAL Sings 'Daisy', digital photo by Paul Dean. Earlier this evening I saw 2001: A Space Odyssey on the big screen at the Colony Theater, right here in Raleigh, North Carolina. It was well-attended but not too crowded, and excitement was in the air. I felt a tiny but definite chill as it ended, and contributed to the light applause. Afterwards, people hung around outside the theater as if we had experienced an event.

The Space Odyssey, digital photo by Paul Dean. The 'descent to Jupiter' was fantastic, of course. The movie went by much faster than I had expected. There was so much to be seen.

Diamonds, digital photo by Paul Dean. Stanley Kubrick was a frickin' genius, and 2001 on the wide screen is proof.

Serenity, digital photo by Paul Dean. An accident; I was testing the camera's settings while watching the evening news with my dad.

'I'm sitting in my mother's arms in a brown aura of gloom sent up by her bathrobe'it has cords hanging, like the cords in movies, bellrope for Catherine Empress, but brown, hanging around the bathrobe belt' . . . old Chrismas morning bathrobe with conventional diamonds or squares design, but the brown of the color of life, the color of the brain, the gray brown brain, and the first color I noticed after the rainy grays of my first views of the world in the spectrum from the crib so dumb.'

'Jack Kerouac, Dr. Sax, 1959.

'There were Saturday mornings when a muddy brown pool was joyous to the test of squatting kids . . . as dewy and mornlike as brown mud water can get,'with its reflected brown taffy clouds''

'Jack Kerouac, Dr. Sax, 1959.

'There was an alley downtown among the soft redbrick of Keith's Theater and the Bridge Street Warehouse, with a red neoned candy store of antique Saturday nights of funnies still smeling of ink and strawberry ice cream sodas all pink and frothy with a dew on top . . .'

'Jack Kerouac, Dr. Sax, 1959.

'. . . not long after that I dreamed the horrible dream of the rattling red livingroom, newly painted a strange 1929 varnish red and I saw it in the dream all dancing and rattling like skeletons because my brother Gerard haunted them and dreamed I woke up screaming by the phonograph machine in the adjoining room with its Masters Voice curves in the brown wood' Memory and dream are intermixed in this mad universe.'

'Jack Kerouac, Dr. Sax, 1959.

'I send you a box
Of glowing pearls.
Wear them with irises
And orange blossoms.'

'Yakamochi, translated by Kenneth Rexroth, One Hundred Poems From The Japanese, 1955.

'In a gust of wind the white dew
On the Autumn grass
Scatters like a broken necklace.'

'Bunya No Asayasu, translated by Kenneth Rexroth, One Hundred Poems From The Japanese, 1955.

'As certain as color
Passes from the petal,
Irrevocable as flesh,
The gazing eye falls through the world.'

'The Poetess Ono No Komachi, translated by Kenneth Rexroth, One Hundred Poems From The Japanese, 1955.

'Every Tuesday a man comes and gets me out of social studies and we go to a room and talk about it all.

Last week he spread out pictures of flat bats for me to comment on. I mostly saw flat bats. Then I saw big holes a body could fall right into. Big black deep holes through the table and the floor. And then he took off his glasses and screwed his face up to mine and tells me I'm scared.

I used to be but I am not now is what I told him. I might get a little nervous but I am never scared.'

'Kaye Gibbons, Ellen Foster, 1987.

'[Ren'] Descartes never got up before noon . . . and it earned him the reputation of being lazy. Still, he managed to revolutionize the fields of physics, mathematics, and philosophy. Not bad for a lazy guy.'

'Leonard Mlodinow, Feynman's Rainbow, 2003.

''Do you know who first explained the true origin of the rainbow'' I asked.

'It was Descartes,' [Richard Feynman] said. After a moment he looked me in the eye.

'And what do you think was the salient feature of the rainbow that inspired Descartes' mathematical analysis'' he asked.

'Well, the rainbow is actually a section of a cone that appears as an arc of the colors of the spectrum when drops of water are illuminated by sunlight behind the observer.'

'And''

'I suppose his inspiration was the realization that the problem could be analyzed by considering a single drop, and the geometry of the situation.'

'You're overlooking a key feature of the phenomenon,' he said.

'Okay, I give up. What would you say inspired his theory''

'I would say his inspiration was that he thought rainbows were beautiful.''

'Leonard Mlodinow, Feynman's Rainbow, 2003.

'There is nothing we imagine which we do not already know. And our ability to imagine is our ability to remember what we have already once experienced and to apply it to some different situation.'

'Stephen Spender; quoted in Feynman's Rainbow by Leonard Mlodinow, 2003.

'Invention does not consist in creating out of void, but out of chaos.'

'Mary Shelley; quoted in Feynman's Rainbow by Leonard Mlodinow, 2003.

Removal from the Social Unit, a collage by Jimmy Kellough, 12.5"x12.5", 2005. Kellough, a multi-media artist who lives in Durham, North Carolina, has inspired countless other artists, including myself. I love this guy!

''There are two types of comedian . . . both deriving from the circus, which I shall call the White Face and the Red Nose. Almost all comedians fall into one or the other of these two simple archetypes. In the circus, the White Face is the controlling clown with the deathly pale masklike face who never takes a pie; the Red Nose is the subversive clown with the yellow and red makeup who takes all the pies and the pratfalls and the buckets of water and the banana skins. The White Face represents the mind, reminding humanity of the constant mocking presence of death; the Red Nose represents the body, reminding mankind of its constant embarrassing vulgarities. . . . The emblem of the White Face is the skull, that of the Red Nose is the phallus. One stems from the plague, the other from the carnival. The bleakness of the funeral, the wildness of the orgy. The graveyard and the fiesta. The brain and the penis. Hamlet and Falstaff. Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. Laurel and Hardy.''

'Eric Idle, The Road To Mars, 1999.

'His eyes gleamed with a hard, dull light the color of glue and almost never displayed emotion, except occasionally to shutter open as though in mild surprise.'

'Kenzaburo O', A Personal Matter, translated by John Nathan, 1969.

'Wordless, Bird stared for an instant at the numberless antholes in the ebonite receiver. The surface, like a night sky vaulted with black stars, clouded and cleared with each breath he took.'

'Kenzaburo O', A Personal Matter, translated by John Nathan, 1969.

'Bird looked up at the trees billowing above the rooftops in their opulence of leaf and saw that the squalling rain had washed them to a somber yet truly vivid green. It was a green that transported him, as the traffic light had done at the highway intersection. Perhaps, he mused, he would see this kind of vibrant green when he lay on his deathbed.'

'Kenzaburo O', A Personal Matter, translated by John Nathan, 1969.

'I looked into her eyes. Her eyes were like a deep spring in the shade of cliffs, which no breeze could ever reach. Nothing moved there, everything was still. Look closely, and you could just begin to make out the scene reflected in the water's surface.'

'Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun, translated by Philip Gabriel, 1998.

'Brown paper, especially wrapping paper, is very pleasant, very cosy to paint on. Many an experienced artist has used it when he wasn't up to anything grand or grandiose.'

'J.D. Salinger, De Daumier-Smith's Blue Period, from Nine Stories, 1953.

'[T]he seal impressions of the Uruk period are little masterpieces. At that time the stamp-seal of earlier periods was almost entirely superseded by the cylinder-seal. This was a small cylinder of ordinary or semi-precious stone, varying in length from 2.5 to 8 centimetres, as thick as the thumb or as thin as a pencil, and pierced lengthwise throughout, so that it could be worn on a string around the neck. On its surface was engraved a design which, when rolled on clay, could be repeated ad infinitum. These early cylinder-seals were already made with great skill, and the designs'which ranged from friezes of animals or plants to scenes of daily life or mythological subjects'were compsed and arranged with considerable ingenuity.'

'Georges Roux, Ancient Iraq, third edition, 1992.

'[T]he object itself [the cylinder seal] was adopted by the Egyptians, who engraved it with their own traditional designs and, having no clay tablets on which to roll it, used it for centuries as an amulet.'

'Georges Roux, Ancient Iraq, third edition, 1992.

'The short and narrow cylinder-seals . . . bearing monotonous friezes of schematized animals or geometric designs . . . were [later] replaced . . . by longer and wider seals with totally different compositions depicting either 'banquet scenes' or 'animal-contest scenes'. . . . There were also some religious motifs, such as the sun-god on a boat. . . . Some seals, notably those of kings, were made of lapis-lazuli or other semi-precious stones, or even of gold, and they were sometimes capped with silver at both ends. An important novelty was the appearance . . . of the first short cuneiform inscriptions on cylinder-seals.'

'Georges Roux, Ancient Iraq, third edition, 1992.

'The writing used in Mesopotamia throughout history and known as 'cuneiform' was originally'as all primitive writings, past or present'a collection of small, simplified drawings, or pictograms. . . . [I]n all probability the first pictograms were engraved on wood or painted on skins or leaves, but such media must have disintegrated long ago in the humid subsoil of Iraq, and the only documents that have survived are written on clay. The process of writing was in itself very simple: the scribe took a lump of fine, well-washed clay and shaped it as a small, smooth cushion, a few centimetres square. Then, with the end of a reed stalk cut obliquely he drew lines dividing each face of the cushion into squares and filled each square with incised drawings. The 'tablet' was then either baked or left unbaked. Baked tablets are nearly as hard a stone; old unbaked tablets crumble into dust between the fingers, but if they are collected with care, allowed to dry slowly in the shade and hardened in an oven they become almost indestructible. It must be added . . . that a number of archaic inscriptions were engraved in stone, at first with a bronze point, then with a cold chisel.

In the course of time the Mesopotamian script gradually lost its pictographic character. The signs were laid down in horizontal lines rather than in squares or in vertical bands. They became smaller, more compact, more rigid, more 'abstract', finally bearing no resemblance to the objects they represented. The awkward curves disappeared and were replaced by straight lines, at first, of equal width, then'as the prismatic stylus was forced into the clay proir to being drawn on its surface'vaguely triangular or wedge-shaped. Towards the middle of the third millennium B.C. this evolution was completed and the true 'cuneiform' writing (from Latin cuneus: wedge, nail) was born. . . .'

'Georges Roux, Ancient Iraq, third edition, 1992.

'Sometimes the scribe did not impress his style into clay but into wax spread over ivory or wooden boards, several boards being bound together by means of metal hinges like a miniature folding screen. In 1953 a number of such writing boards, some of them still bearing traces of an astronomical composition, were discovered at Nimrud in a well where they had been thrown during the sack of the city.'

'Georges Roux, Ancient Iraq, third edition, 1992.

'[The Sumerian] gods, like the Greek gods, had the appearances, qualities, defects and passions of human beings, but they were endowed with fabulous strength, supernatural powers and immortality. Moreover, they manifested themselves in a halo of dazzling light, a 'splendour' which filled man with fear and respect and gave him the indescribable feeling of contact with the divine, which is the essence of all religions.'

'Georges Roux, Ancient Iraq, third edition, 1992.

'[T]he word ziqqurat (sometimes transcribed ziggurat or zikkurat) comes from a verb zaquru, which simply means 'to build high'. . . . All considered, perhaps the best definition of the ziqqurat is given by the Bible (Genesis xi. 4), where it is said that the 'Tower of Babel' (i.e. the ziqqurat of Babylon) was meant 'to reach unto heaven'. In the deeply religious mind of the Sumerians these enormous, yet curiously light constructions were 'prayers of bricks' as our Gothic cathedrals are 'prayers of stone'. They extended to the gods a permanent invitation to descend on earth at the same time as they expressed one of man's most remarkable efforts to rise above his miserable condition and to establish closer contacts with the divinity.'

'Georges Roux, Ancient Iraq, third edition, 1992.

'In approximately 3300 B.C., about two centuries before the Egyptians, the Sumerians invented writing, [a] fundamental revolution which enabled man to communicate with distant other men; to refine and develop his thoughts; to transmit them from one generation to the other, making them immortal since they were engraved on stones and, more often, on clay, both imperishable materials. Together with the Mesopotamian Semites (Akkadians, Babylonians and Assyrians), the Sumerians used this wonderful tool not only for their accounts, but also to retain memories of the past; to assemble in a coherent system a number of hitherto disparate religious concepts; to honour and serve their gods and obtain from them a glimpse of their own future; to glorify their kings; to codify their laws; to classify the fascinating world around them and lay the foundations for scientific research; to use myths, legend, epic tales and 'counsels of wisdom' in order to express their properly philosophical ideas, ranging from the creation of the cosmos and man to the insoluble problem of Good and Evil; and for thousands of other things which cannot be listed here, for no other peoples in pre-classical antiquity has left us so many texts of all kinds. This is the true 'Mesopotamian heritage'. . . .'

'Georges Roux, Ancient Iraq, third edition, 1992.

Fireworks, a collage by Paul Dean, 17"x17", 2007. A present for George and Gail, it includes fireworks packaging from their wedding celebration.

''But that day I'd seen this iron thing, a little brooch with a beautiful dull sheen, to be worn around the neck, you know how nice that would look on my breast.'''On your brown breastbone a dull gold beautiful it would be baby, go on with your amazing story.''

'Jack Kerouac, The Subterraneans, 1958.

'Bear with me all lover readers who've suffered pangs, bear with me men who understand that the sea of blackness in a darkeyed woman's eyes is the lonely sea itself and would you go ask the sea to explain itself. . . ''

'Jack Kerouac, The Subterraneans, 1958.

'. . . all thoughts meet in the crystal chandelier of eternity. . . .'

'Jack Kerouac, The Subterraneans, 1958.

'The Akkadian victory over [the Lullubi] is commemorated by . . . a masterpiece of Mesopotamian sculpture: the famous stele found at Susa [c. 2239 B.C.]. . . . There Naram-Sin, armed with the bow and the horned tiara of the gods on his head, is shown climbing a steep mountain and treading upon the corpses of his enemies; his infantry, pictured on a smaller scale, follows him. The gods, who dwarfed the humans in Early Dynastic Sumerian sculpture, are now, significantly, reduced to discreet symbols: two stars in the sky.'

'Georges Roux, Ancient Iraq, third edition, 1992.

'Falling on the people who passed in the street, the long, naked, whistling finger of gas in the entrance turned them instantly into ghosts, gaunt or stout, framed in the black doorway. The same passers-by would then go and find themselves a bit of color here and there, in the light of windows or street lamps, and finally lose themselves, as black and shapeless as myself, in the night.'

'Louis-Ferdinand C'line, Journey To The End Of The Night, 1934, translated by Ralph Manheim, 1983.

''For one thing, Ferdinand, from the standpoint of a truly modern intelligence, haven't all differences and distinctions been defaced' No more white! No more black! Everything dissolves. That's the new approach! The fashion! . . . I saw the human mind, Ferdinand, losing its balance little by little and dissolving in the vast maelstrom of apocalyptic ambitions! It began about 1900 . . . mark that date!''

'Louis-Ferdinand C'line, Journey To The End Of The Night, 1934, translated by Ralph Manheim, 1983.

'When the red ants discovered that a new variety of canned goods had arrived, they mounted guard around the cassoulet. It wouldn't have been advisable to leave a freshly opened can standing; they'd have summoned the whole nation of red ants to the shack. There are no bigger communists anywhere.'

'Louis-Ferdinand C'line, Journey To The End Of The Night, 1934, translated by Ralph Manheim, 1983.

'The sunsets in that African hell proved to be fabulous. They never missed. As tragic every time as a monumental murder of the sun! . . . For a whole hour the sky paraded in great delirious spurts of scarlet from end to end; after that the green of the trees exploded and rose up in quivering trails to meet the first stars. Then the whole horizon turned gray again and then red, but this time a tired red that didn't last long. That was the end. All the colors fell back down on the forest in tatters, like streamers after the hundredth performance. It happened every day at exactly six o'clock.'

'Louis-Ferdinand C'line, Journey To The End Of The Night, 1934, translated by Ralph Manheim, 1983.

'The Governor seemed to wear all the gold in his treasury on his uniform . . . in the blazing sunshine, it surpassed belief, even without the plumes.'

'Louis-Ferdinand C'line, Journey To The End Of The Night, 1934, translated by Ralph Manheim, 1983.

'As she spoke, her perverse red hair (she had the complexion that went with it) was tossed by extraordinary waves that sent vibrations straight to my perineum. When this divine creature questioned me about my feats of arms, I gave her so many poignant details that she began to devour me with her eyes.'

'Louis-Ferdinand C'line, Journey To The End Of The Night, 1934, translated by Ralph Manheim, 1983.

'Even from ten or fifteen miles away you get a good view of a burning village. It was a merry sight. A tiny hamlet that you wouldn't even notice in the daytime, with ugly, uninteresting country around it, you can't imagine how impressive it can be when it's on fire at night! You'd think it was Notre-Dame! A village, even a small one, takes at least all night to burn, in the end it looks like an enormous flower, then there's only a bud, and after that nothing.'

'Louis-Ferdinand C'line, Journey To The End Of The Night, 1934, translated by Ralph Manheim, 1983.

'A war had been switched on between us and the other side, and now it was burning! Like the current between the two carbons of an arc lamp! And this lamp was in no hurry to go out!'

'Louis-Ferdinand C'line, Journey To The End Of The Night, 1934, translated by Ralph Manheim, 1983.

'I knew only one thing about that blackness, which was so dense you had the impression that if you stretched out your arm a little way from your shoulder you'd never see it again, but of that one thing I was absolutely certain, namely, that it was full of homicidal impulses.'

'Louis-Ferdinand C'line, Journey To The End Of The Night, 1934, translated by Ralph Manheim, 1983.

'Dreams rise in the darkness and catch fire from the mirage of moving light. What happens on the screen isn't quite real; it leaves open a vague cloudy space for the poor, for dreams and the dead. Hurry hurry, cram yourself full of dreams to carry you through the life that's waiting for you outside, when you leave here, to help you last a few days more in that nightmare of things and people.'

'Louis-Ferdinand C'line, Journey To The End Of The Night, 1934, translated by Ralph Manheim, 1983.

'There is absolutely nothing wrong with the new London 2012 Olympics logo, but there is something seriously wrong with the logo-driven branding industry at large.

This new logo clearly proves that as we approach 2012, global society will not respond to conventional logos or graphics, but only to these kinds of insignificant, dysfunctional and obscure design works, which will eventually become branding norms throughout the world. This clearly points to the slow demise of the logo-branding industry. . . .

The release of the London logo half a decade prior to the 2012 games themselves is a strong case in point. Perhaps better than anything it intends to convey, it portrays a future in which the value of a logo will be reduced to a minuscule amount.

Let's face it, logos are almost dead in this hyper-accelerated society. . . .

The London 2012 games are not at all at the mercy of the new logo, as the ever-unique, powerful and recognizable image of the five rings will provide longevity to the Olympics' ever-growing brand.

In reality, it's graphic overload and out-of-control logo treatments that push a brand name identity to the point of no value. What are the logos of Microsoft, Sony or Panasonic' . . .

Most smart corporations prefer powerful word marks, as their powerful, recognizable names stand alone in the rough marketplace and are not at the mercy of overblown graphics going through repeated treatments that are commonly labeled as 'brand positioning.''

'Naseem Javed, What Does the London 2012 Olympics Logo Prove', E-Commerce Times, 06/28/07.

The logo is dead! Long live the word mark!

'The prettiest girl in the crowd, darkeyed Susan, is in love with James, the tall young beautiful handsomeboy of the neighborhood who will probably win a prize soon, go to Hollywood and become a basketball star simultaneously and also be sought, because of his demure purple eyes, which he can't help, (and long-eyelashed languor) by queers of every kind. . . .'

'Jack Kerouac, Visions of Cody, 1972.

'It's a blue rose, the morning-star is like a blue rose in the Hair of the Archangel.'

'Jack Kerouac, Visions of Cody, 1972.

'[A]ll that is essential in typography can be taught by writing in the sand with your finger.'

'Peter Burnhill, typography teacher, at the Working Party on Typographic Teaching, 1968; from his obituary in The Guardian, June 22, 2007.

'His face was hidden behind gold, glass and hair; his very teeth were invisible behind the bushy drooping of his mustache. The maiden looked straight into the emptiness of the lenses of his prince-nez. . . .'

'Alfred Jarry, The Supermale, translated by Ralph Gladstone & Barbara Wright, New Directions 18, 1964.

'Dawn was breaking, like the light from another world.'

'Alfred Jarry, The Supermale, translated by Ralph Gladstone & Barbara Wright, New Directions 18, 1964.

'I didn't keep a peyote diary & am writing from memory
there were times when I felt little'i'll describe the high spots

colors were much brighter & richer when I was high
bright color was the main effect on my senses
everything looked exciting and beautiful, & that made me happy
looking at a peach for 20 minutes I was most fascinated, not by the brightred part of the skin but by the subtle changes of tint in the paleyellowgreen part
objects, for example a garbagecan, had an intrinsic visual significance that had nothing to do with words, attractive
the more i looked at one thing the more it interested me
a friend, high, didn't recognize a familiar street because there was so much she hadnt seen before
it was not like 'normal' seeing, where you dully register only what has a, usually false, relation to 'practical' purposes
i saw the bright colors reflected from the oil in flying pigeon feathers
the colors must have been there before but i didnt notice them
on peyote you notice everything that can be sensed, without effort
sitting in my store, i saw there is no color white
my white walls were yelloworange from lightbulbs & there was a strong green from the old coat of paint
an eyechart had an unusual quality like old chinese manuscripts because the paper had yellow-browned a bit from age'

'Jack Green, peyote, newspaper #8, 1959; The Beats, edited by Seymour Krim, 1960.

'Girls bored me'they still do. I love Mickey Mouse more than any woman I've ever known.'

'Walt Disney.

'Advertising is dead, design is the new advertising.'

'Marc Gob' of marketing expert Desgrippes Gob', New York, on the 'Jesus machine,' the new iPhone, at Timesonline, July 1, 2007.